


She Means Everything to Me

by infinitylilies



Category: Glee
Genre: Changing POVs, F/F, Faberry, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, My First Work in This Fandom, Song Lyrics, brittana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitylilies/pseuds/infinitylilies
Summary: A faberry/brittana fanfic set to the lyrics of 'She' by Dodie
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Kudos: 6





	1. freshman year

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not own Glee or any of the characters; I also do not own any rights to the song lyrics used
> 
> Hey there! I'm not really sure what to tag this as, it isn't quite a story with a plot, it's more so an insight into different characters minds and thoughts. Anyways I hope you enjoy! Each chapter is based off of a line or two of the lyrics. I highly recommend you listen to the song beforehand or while reading :) This is my first fanfic so please be kind! All mistakes are my own.

* * *

Quinn's POV 

_Am I allowed to look at her like that?_

_Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at?_

* * *

The first thing she remembered was the sound of her voice. Strong and melodic, beautiful in a raw way that made her throat ache and her vision blur. She'd later learn that if she wanted to climb the social ladder, this was not a girl she'd want to be associated with. But in that moment, it didn't matter. Her voice made her feel things, things she knew good girls shouldn't feel about other girls. So she pushed those thoughts down into the slippery coldness of all her other secrets, and told herself 'what was one more?' When she finally saw her face that _feeling_ tried to jump out of it's cage. It strained against her chest, roaring to be let out. She merely swallowed hard and promised herself she'd do better, be better. She'd keep those feelings better contained in the future. She knew how her father felt about _those kinds of people,_ and with the ghost of Lucy still hanging all over her now skinny body, fitting in was the only way for her to go.

But _her_ face, her beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful face. Her nose which sloped in a way that made her want to trace it with a feather-soft touch. Her eyes which were deep and thoughtful, but eternally sad, so sad that sometimes she wanted to hug her and ask what was wrong. Her mouth, with it's tight upturned smiles, even when cruel words were hurled through the air at her. Her body, the shape of it, which was something she wouldn't let herself think about- she _couldn't_ think about. She couldn't want to run her hands down her back, or hold her tight against her, she just _couldn't_. But sometimes she let the leash loosen slightly on that part of her, the part she pushed so far down. She let her eyes linger for a moment too long, let her breath hitch slightly with the rising and falling of her chest. In the instant she let herself simply _be_ , it didn't feel so wrong. But the moment would pass, pull back like the changing tides in an ocean. And she'd lash out at her. Cutting her with sharp insults meant to distract from the fact that she _wanted_ her. Yes, she knew from the moment she saw her that she wanted her. But she was a smart girl. So she knew she could never have her.

She had friends, but she ached for something deeper, there was a whole in heart left empty without love. So she tried to fill it with boys. Every boy she compared to _her_ though. Boys were rough in all the ways she imagined she was soft. Their angles just weren't right, and she knew that space in her heart could never be filled by one. But some could come close. If she bent them slightly, smoothed down their battered edges, she might just be able to squeeze them in. She could learn to ignore the uncomfortable pressure they left in her heart, the way their big elbows and heavy knees strained against the sides of that hole. She could live with the discomfort if it meant her father accepting her. So she shoved boy after boy in there, ignoring the fact that none of them fit quite right. She'd tell herself that one day a boy would come along. One day he'd be close enough to fit comfortably in her heart, in her soul, and eventually in her home. One day that strain would lessen and she could finally just breathe. But then again, one day she'd realize just how very good she'd gotten at lying to herself.

Her throat tightened every time she saw _her_ , hurrying down the hallways or singing scales in the choir room by herself. Her whole body was tense from the weight of trying to ignore her, trying to shut off her brain when all it wanted to do was think about her. She needed a distraction, and a release, so with apprehension she signed up for the Cheerios. Practice was hard and grueling, but it kept her mind off of other things. She'd made friends with a Latina girl who had a tongue sharper than a knife and more secrets buried in her eyes than even Quinn herself. Santana, as she quick learned was her name, came as a package deal. Her pinkie was always linked with a tall blonde who had a pension for stupid comments, but a face that revealed she understood much more than she let on. She was curious about those two. They were close in a way she'd always hoped she'd be with her own best friends. But Lucy didn't have any friends, let alone a best one, so she never had the chance to connect with someone like that. Santana was careful about what she said around her, but over a few weeks she came to know that her and Brittany, the blonde, had known each other since kindergarten. Santana's guard was down with Brittany in a way that made Quinn wonder what she was hiding that made her so hard with everyone else.

Spending time with Brittany and Santana was helpful for improving her reputation at the school. Before long her status, both on the Cheerios and in the student body, shot up and suddenly she was the most popular girl in school. She liked having everyone admire her, it was a welcome change from the taunting she endured as Lucy. But the top of the mountain is always the most treacherous. All it takes is one gust of wind to send you spiraling down the slope. With San and Britt flanking either side of her, they tossed out insults to all those they deemed below them. For each barb it sent an oily, shameful feeling into the pit of her stomach, memories of being called names when she was Lucy threatening to rise to the surface. But as with everything else, she shoved it down, down, down, moving on to her next victim. For reasons she couldn't understand, she was increasingly cruel to _her_ calling her 'manhands' and tossing blood red slushies in her face. She didn't know why. Or maybe she did. Maybe it was because she could feel Santana's razor sharp eyes tearing holes in her back as she glanced just a moment too long at _her._ Maybe it was the way when she forgot who she was supposed to be and slipped into a daydream about running her fingers through silky brown hair, that Brittany's face filled with just a little too much understanding. Whatever it was, it only made her more determined to prove that she hated her, wanted nothing more from her than to make her a laughingstock. Soon enough the whole school feared them, heck even people in the town knew who they were. 'Look out,' they'd whisper with baited breath, 'here comes the Unholy Trinity'. 

All this and yet she'd still lose her breath every time she looked up at her with those big brown eyes. She started hating sleeping at home alone. At night it was too easy for her thoughts to wander into that treacherous territory. Whenever she could she'd ask to sleepover at either Santana or Brittany's house. Her own parents hardly noticed whether she was there or not, her mom typically too far gone in a bottle of wine by the time she got home from school, and her dad too busy at work to notice that she spent almost every hour away from the house. Typically she didn't mind, but sometimes she fantasized about doing something, anything to get herself in trouble and finally get her parents attention. But no, Quinn Fabray had been raised right. She'd never do anything bad, and as far as anyone knew she was still a perfect Christian girl. These days she wasn't sure what she believed in though... While she'd occasionally stay with Brittany, her house was far more hectic and full than Santana's. It didn't seem to matter though, because every night she slept at Santana's house Brittany was there too. She didn't always stay the night, but sometimes she did, the two of them together in San's bed, while she slept on a spare mattress on the floor next to her bed. 

Being in someone else's bed, tucked into unfamiliar smelling sheets helped keep her mind, and her dreams, off of _her._ She was asleep one night, when she was awoken from her fitful slumber. Her heart raced and her palms were sweaty as she remembered the vivid images that had filled her sleep just moments before. Flashes of smooth expanses of skin, brown hair twisting with her blonde, deep auburn eyes boring into her very being. It was dreams like these that woke her up at all hours of the night. Most nights she could clear her thoughts, think about the boys she spent the previous day flirting with, and sink back into an uneasy rest. This night however, no matter what she tried she just couldn't help but think of her. She shifted in the bed, twisting the blankets around her before giving up and pushing herself into a sitting position. Her eyes surveyed the dark expanse of Santana's room, catching on the trophies and medals glimmering in the moonlight that filtered through the blinds. Plastered all over the walls were pictures of all sorts- pictures of the Cheerios, of her family, but mainly of her and Brittany. The two of them as little kids, matching toothless smiles and twin plaits in their locks, all the way up to the first day of school this year. Her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness as she glanced over at them. The dark sheets had been kicked off the bed, crumpled in a ball on the floor. The two girls were wrapped around each other- Santana's arm thrown lazily over Brittany's waist and the blonde's head tucked firmly into the Latina's neck. There was something about the way they looked so at ease together, their position practiced and comfortable, that unlocked something inside her. Without any real confirmation, all the moments she'd witnessed with them clicked together. Of course she didn't know for sure, but now that she was looking, it wasn't that hard to tell. She didn't know how to feel, she was shocked of course- but at the same time not- mainly though she felt sad, empty. She recalled how Santana stared at Brittany when she thought no one was looking. Santana always wore the type of expression that made her wonder why she couldn't look at _her_ like that.

After all, she was just _so_ nice to look at.


	2. 6th grade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading! This chapter is going to be focusing on brittana rather than faberry, but I hope you enjoy! Again, I apologize for any mistakes/if this is very bad lol. This is a little different from chapter 1. I tried to make it more dialogue/plot heavy rather than as much internal conflict. I hope you still like it and I'll probably swap between dialogue/internal stuff from chapter to chapter just to keep it more interesting. 
> 
> Note: I do not own Glee; I also do not own any rights to the lyrics used

* * *

Santana's POV

_And she smells like lemongrass and sleep_

_She tastes like apple juice and peach_

* * *

The first time she ever kisses her is in 6th grade. They're curled up on Brittany's bed, the radio beside them lazily spitting out a tune as she taps her long fingers down her smooth tan skin. Those bright blue eyes are boring into hers, full of questions she's not sure she'll ever really have the answers for. It's been a long day and an even longer night, one of those late September days where the air feels heavier than a down blanket and their clothes are plastered to their sweat-sticky skin. Intertwined like this, it should be too hot. The heat is suffocating enough on it's own- but here, with limbs wrapped each other and chests pressed tightly together- it just feels right.

Raising her head to look at her, her long blonde braids gently whooshing past her chest, she asks

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

Her heart races, skin icing over even in the oppressing heat.

"No," she manages to force out, ignoring the way her eyes are tugging towards her full pink lips. 'Have you?'

She shakes her head in response, skin creasing slightly as her mouth tugs downwards, those shining braids swinging through the air.

"I wonder what it's like though. I heard that boy Noah talking about it at recess."

She gulps nervously, not knowing why her breath feels so labored now. Brittany's her best friend. Of course they talk about things like this. Besides, it's not like she wants to kiss any of those dumb boys. They're all so... boyish. Too dirty, too loud, too rough. She can never see herself wanting to date one of them, but she knows it'll one day be expected of her. She may be 12, but she sure as hell isn't stupid. She hears the way older girls compare the boys they're crushing on during the bus ride home from school and of course she sees the way how dating the right one can skyrocket your popularity. As those blue eyes drill into her flushed skin- she convinces herself it's just from the heat- the full weight of her question sinks in. 'Wait. Does Brittany _want_ to kiss someone?' She doesn't know why, but the thought her, so perfect and innocent, dating a boy makes her want to throw up. It must be the heat she manages to convince herself, pushing down the slippery feeling of lying to herself. 

Brittany lets out a long sigh of air, her breath pushing her flyaways into her face. Those eyes are deep with understanding and, for some reason, a little apprehension. She can practically hear the gears turning in her brain, mulling over some thought, surely something so inherently _Brittany_ that she feels no one else will understand. She cautions a movement closer to her, pushing her self up onto her elbows so her dark hair hangs down towards her chest, their faces parallel.

"A penny for your thoughts?" she queries with a tight-lipped smile.

Ever since they heard the expression on a late night television show years ago, they use it whenever they want to know what the other is thinking, sort of like asking to be let in. She knows that other people frequently use the expression, but it's different for them- then again almost everything is- it's more of a reassurance. A promise to try to help understand whatever it is that the other is struggling with, a promise that they won't judge them no matter what it is. It's a way of saying 'I'm here. I get you. I want to be let into everything you do. You tell me what's wrong and I'll help you fix it.'

"I'm just worried. Other girls have said they've already kissed boys. I've never even hugged one! Today in English, Tina told me that Matt had been asking about me." She tries to ignore the way hearing about Matt makes her want to punch him in the stomach. "I just don't have any experience, everyone already calls me stupid, if I don't know how to kiss they'll never stop making fun of me!"

Her heart clenches, both from the thought of Brittany kissing anyone and from what she's just told her.

"Britt-Britt, you know you're not stupid. You're a genius! Who else would be smart enough to know when Lord Tubbington was sick or would be able to teach their little sister to tie her shoes in just 5 minutes!"

Those bright eyes twinkle for a moment before dropping back down to the light pink comforter they're sitting on top of. Her voice is sad and heavy with something she can't quite place.

"I know...and I try not to listen to them, but I just want to fit in."

Nervously fidgeting with her hands she tries to think of a way to comfort Brittany. Her voice quivers, breaking on the last syllable as she quietly whispers to the blonde next to her.

"What if... we practiced... kissing, together?"

Her eyes widen as the panic sets in. Oh god, what has she done? Brittany will never want to talk to her again, oh god, oh god she's screwed everything up for real this time. Her breath catches as black splotches dance in front of her vision. She thinks she's gonna pass, lose consciousness and hopefully wake up in a world where she hasn't just said that. She starts to backtrack, but Brittany interrupts her before she can get more than a word out.

'Ok.'

'Ok?' she sputters, not quite believing her ears.

The blonde simply nods in response, her face unreadable and eyes pensive. She slowly rolls her over onto her back, her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. She half-crawls on top her, firm muscle from years of dance pressing into her soft skin. Never taking her eyes off hers for even a moment, she leans in slowly, her breath a warm wisp against her skin as she draws nearer. The instant those soft lips press against her own, it's like her body comes alive. They're both still for a moment, Brittany suddenly nervous. Taking control, she wraps her skinny arms around her back, pulling her closer. Their teeth clack against each other and they giggle, before quickly getting lost in the moment again. Growing silent once more, they press their lips together again.

Her lips are soft, softer than she ever expected they could be. As the kisses grow a little longer and little more open, she can taste the apple juice they'd been drinking just a few minutes ago. Her mouth tastes sweet, better than any candy. A mix of apple juice and the tangy flavor of peach and something so inherently _Brittany._ It's like she's been sleeping ten thousand years, but now she's finally more awake than she's ever been. Kissing her feels more right than anything she's ever done before, more natural and normal than even breathing.

The spend the next few minutes trading soft kisses, neither of them quite know what they're doing, but in the end it doesn't really matter. Their bodies are flush against each other, pressed close enough that she can hear the beating of her heart. It feels like it beats in sync with hers, the two of them thumping together to create a beautiful melody, prettier than any song she's ever heard before. When they're both too out of breath to continue, they pause for a moment. She buries her face into the supple skin of her neck. Breathing in deep past the smell of her lemongrass shampoo, to the scents beneath. She smells like moonlight embodied, like clean clothes hanging on a line in the summer air. She smells like sleep, like the sweet scent of roses from a lover. But most of all, she smells like home. She knows that later the internal breakdown will come. The questioning of why she liked it so much, why she only wants to kiss her _girl_ best friend, not any of the boys. But now's not the time for that. Pushing all negative thoughts out of her head, she leans over to kiss her once again.

She has always loved the taste of peach after all.


End file.
